This Song Is About Her
by green lion
Summary: Moe Skeeter makes a startling discovery concerning his boss and a hit pop song from 1973. Carmen/?


__Summary: Moe Skeeter makes a startling discovery concerning his boss and a hit pop song from 1973. Carmen/?

Disclaimer: "You're So Vain" is the work of the talented Carly Simon. I'm not sure who Carmen et all belong to these days, but it ain't me.

Author's Note: This story is set in 1995, the last year the series aired. I'm not sure if this particular humor fic is funny to anyone else besides me, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Enjoy!

* * *

_VILE HQ Cafeteria, Undisclosed Location _

Moe Skeeter, Lars Vegas, Patty Larceny and a sour-faced Sara Bellum sat grouped around their usual lunch table, enjoying Chef Sal Monella's latest creation: tofu surprise. It looked an awful lot like last night's tofu stir fry doused in tomato sauce and covered with mozzarella cheese. (Perhaps that was where the "surprise" came from.) Moe and Lars wolfed theirs down appreciatively, while Sara picked at hers in disgust and muttered something about heating up a cup of ramen noodles back in the lab over her Bunsen burner later. Patty seemed contented with her small salad as she poured over the latest edition of _US Weekly_.

The cafeteria's piped in radio system switched over to a new song and the familiar earthly tones of 70s songstress Carly Simon floated throughout the room. Patty set down her magazine and rolled her eyes. "Ugh. You would think with all the money Carmen has, she could afford some new music around here. Would it kill her to play something from the current decade once in awhile? Maybe a little Madonna?"

Lars shook his head. "Kids these days. 'You're So Vain' is a classic."

"Well, sure, _you all_" Patty gestured to the older henchmen, "like the 'golden oldies.' It's the music of your youth, I suppose…"

"Are you calling us old?" Sara said dangerously. Patty let out a little squeak.

Moe turned wistful. "You know, I've always wondered if maybe this song was about Carmen."

"The boss? _Our_ boss?" Lars asked.

"Yeah. That whole 'hat strategically tipped below one eye' part. That's Carmen exactly."

Lars said, "But I thought the song was about Warren Beatty. Or was it Warren Buffet? I get them mixed up…"

Patty looked puzzled. "But isn't Carly Simon a woman? How could Carmen be the man in the song that jilted her…" All three of her older colleagues fixed her with a strange look and she turned bright pink. "Oh! Really?"

"Have you ever met a _Mr_. Sandiego?" Sara hinted deviously.

"No…but I've never met a _Mrs._ either," Patty replied.

"No one has. One of her many mysteries…hmmm…Carmen and Carly Simon…" Lars mused dreamily. Sara stabbed him on the arm with a plastic spork. "Ouch! You don't even know where that's been!" Sara smirked.

Moe seemed lost in thought, still parsing the lyrics of the song. "I really don't think she'd wear an apricot scarf…it's not really her color. But that part about flying a Learjet all the way to Nova Scotia just to see an eclipse? That sounds like something Carmen would do."

Sara raised her eyebrows. "Carmen owns _five_ Learjets. Or did, before I upgraded them to something faster."

"And there was that time she went all the way to Rome to get a cappuccino…" Lars remembered.

Patty's bright blue eyes turned big as saucers. "Wow, Moe! Maybe that old song really _is_ about Carmen. Oh, and it's so sad…she broke poor Carly Simon's heart."

"The three of you Rhodes Scholars are forgetting something very important," Sara interrupted in a harsh tone. "This song was a hit in the early 1970s…which would have made Carmen, what, ten years old at the time? It's very unlikely a child…even as one as unique as Carmen…could be the inspiration behind this song."

Moe deflated. "Oh…yeah. I suppose you're right."

Lars patted his friend gently on the back. "It was a good guess, buddy."

* * *

From the seclusion of her private study several floors above, Carmen Sandiego shut off the monitor's connection to the cameras in the cafeteria. She spied on her employees out of necessity rather than prurient curiosity- to quash potential _coups_ before they started and make sure her employees weren't planning any freelance heists on the company dime. It was perhaps an unnecessary precaution- most of these idle lunchtime conversations turned more toward debating the merits of doing time in San Quentin versus Sing Sing or the relative attractiveness of ACME's female detectives. (Tatiana always emerged the clear favorite, edging out the feisty Ivy. Carmen suspected this was because the latter had sent too many of her male henchmen home with bruised ribs and shattered egos.)

Much to Carmen's dismay, occasionally their chatter turned to rampant speculation about her private life. Today's discussion had almost been enough to bring on a tension headache. Carmen flushed with embarrassment and was thankful no one was there to observe her. _Moe_ of all people had nearly uncovered one her most closely guarded secrets. She rubbed her temples and uttered a silent prayer that no one knew about the Chronoskimmer accident that had left her stranded for six months in 1970. She had learned two valuable lessons from that extended trip: Always carry a backup power supply. And never have an affair with a singer-songwriter.

The elegant woman in red sighed. Singers weren't nearly as bad as oversensitive romantic poets. One misguided tryst with John Keats in 1819 and suddenly she was the "Belle Dame Sans Merci" for all eternity. Thank God most people thought that poem was about dying of tuberculosis.


End file.
